


All That Glitters

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Halloween, M/M, Riding, Sex Pollen, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 05:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12450846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: A mysterious sprite-girl trick or treats unsuccessfully at Sam and Dean's motel room...and wreaks her magic on them.





	All That Glitters

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my October SMPC.

Sam watched as Dean smacked his lips and licked his fingers, lapping the last smears of chocolate from them. Dean's stomach gave a little gurgle, audible even a bed away, as it worked on digesting the bag of assorted fun size peanut M&M's, Butterfingers, Twix, and Crunch bars he'd just finished ingesting. Colorful wrappers had drifted into a heap next to one side of his bed, and with a sigh, Dean let the empty bag fall down there as well.

“Dude, did you really eat that whole bag?” Sam couldn't keep the disapproval out of his voice. “You're gonna make yourself sick.”

“Nope, my stomach is cast iron, Sammy boy. Forged with bacon cheeseburgers, chili fries, beer, and whiskey.” Dean patted his belly contentedly. “The only decent things about Halloween are the drop in spooky activity and the candy.”

Sam huffed, sipping his beer and flicking through the limited programs available on the crappy twenty-two inch motel television.

An old episode of _Hee Haw._  
_Friends_ , which Sam didn't mind but knew Dean hated.  
Some baseball game that had to be super-triple-minor league.  
_The Pit and the Pendulum._

“Wait!” Dean fairly barked the command, sitting up with a loud burp. “That's a classic! Roger Corman at his best! We gotta watch this.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but decided that it was at least based on a classic Poe story, and therefore might have some cinematic value. He resolved to keep his own little-boy glee at bad horror movies hidden from Dean.

They both watched raptly, while still making comments and snarking about the bad production values and obvious plot holes. When a knock sounded at the door, Sam thought it was in the movie, but then it repeated itself louder and he realized someone was really at the door.

“Dean, turn it down a sec.” Sam walked over to the door, looking out of the peephole before opening it.

A girl stood on the mat. Sam guessed she was maybe 11 or 12, probably just on the verge or being too old to trick-or-treat. Her costume was beautiful, if very sparkly; layers of gauze--mauve, pale blue, light green--all mingled together in a slim-fitting dress with a full, floaty skirt. Her hair was long and curly, set with little flowers, and a crystal headband that held it back from her face. Sam briefly noticed she must have those trendy prosthetic ears, because they were perfectly pointy and bejeweled from lobe to apex. Most striking of all were her wings—all in the same gauzy colors as the dress, but the material was almost translucent, shimmering with her every movement. Sam was impressed.

“Hey there. Um, nice costume.” He smiled at her. He felt Dean come up behind him, breathing chocolaty breath over his shoulder.

She looked at Sam gravely, holding up a basket with ribbons that matched her dress wrapped around the handle. Speaking in a lilting voice that had the slight trace of an unusual accent, she recited,

“Trick or Treat  
In the night  
Here we meet  
I'm a sprite  
Time for sweets  
Halloween rite  
If you don't cheat  
then I won't bite.”

 

Sam thought her rhyme was interesting, but Dean scoffed. “Aren't you a little...old for trick-or-treat? Run along now, little girl.”

Her jaw set in a pugnacious cast. “You don't know how old I am. Besides, Halloween is for children of any age.” She leaned forward and sniffed. “I smell chocolate.” She glared at Dean, and Sam had to stifle a chuckle behind Dean's shoulder.

“Well, afraid I have to disappoint ya.” He stepped to the side and waved his hand at the pile of empty wrappers. “That was all the chocolate we had.” He patted his belly. “All of it is right here. So run along and knock on someone else's door.”

The sprite frowned, her lower lip sticking out in an angry way. Sam drew back, a little taken aback at her ferocity. Dean burped.

Sprite-girl opened her mouth and chanted,

“Treat or Trick  
I see you  
you're a dick  
through and through  
think with your prick  
that's what you do  
now you'll get sick  
unless you screw  
but only if  
your love is true.”

Dean's eyes went wide. “Huh?”

Sam put a hand on Dean's arm, thinking that retreat might in a good idea about now. Before they could move away, the sprite thrust her hand into her basket and pulled out a fistful of glitter, throwing it at them with a big sweep of her arm.

“Glitter! Fucking unicorn crap!” shouted Dean, waving his hands around to keep it off him. It was to no avail; both he and Sam were covered in the sparkly stuff. Sam thought it actually glowed for a moment as it settled, flickering out as it coated their bodies and clothes.

“Son of a bitch!” yelled Dean, slamming the door shut. Sam blew air from his mouth, watching a little spray of glitter fall to the floor. Dean brushed frantically at himself, creating a little rain of glitter onto the carpet. Much of it still stayed, clinging, coating both him and Sam from their hair down.

“Easy, Dean. Come on, let's change clothes and shower, that should take care of it.” Sam started unbuttoning his shirt. Dean was still muttering curses, but he followed suit and quickly stripped.

After brief showers and donning clean clothes, Sam and Dean resumed their Halloween movie marathon. Dean tossed down a couple of whiskey shots, while Sam stuck to beer. They each lay on one of the beds, pillows bunched against the headboard to cushion them as they relaxed.

While he'd felt ready to chill after their strange visitor, Sam found himself restless instead. His legs kept needing to move, and his skin seemed extra sensitive to the point where his sleep pants and T-shirt were bothering him. He finally peeled off the shirt, and switched out of the pants into boxers.

“You all hot there, Sammy?” Dean winked at him. “C'mon, have a shot.”

Sam figured it couldn't hurt. They were down for the night. He took the glass Dean offered him and downed the amber liquid. The liquor tasted good, but it exacerbated Sam's sensory irritation. He kept rubbing his arms, his calves, even--

“Jesus, Sam, what'ya rubbing your ass like that for? Next thing, you're gonna start jerking off.” Dean snorted, apparently oblivious that he was doing the exact same thing. His hand was rubbing his belly, and as Sam watched wide-eyed, it slid down to rub Dean's crotch.

“You need some alone time there, Dean?” Sam laughed. “At least I'm not--” He looked down to see that in fact he was, his own hand pressing firmly against an erection he hadn't realized he'd sprouted.

“Crap, Sam. What's going on? We haven't jerked off in front of each other since we were teenagers. What the hell is this?” Dean looked pissed, but his hand kept a rhythmic motion against the boner that Sam could now clearly see. Even as his eyes bugged at the tent Dean was pitching, Dean groaned and his hips bucked.

“Okay mister, that's it. Go take a cold shower, or else rub it out in the bathroom. I don't need to see this.” Sam tried to make his voice authoritative, while inside all he felt was horny as hell. While he'd spent a fair bit of time in his life thinking about Dean's dick, yearning after his brother in a very non-brotherly sense, it hadn't ever been anything he'd thought he'd ever get to see up close and personal. Right now, though, it was all he could see in his mind's eye. His own dick was pushing belligerently on his fly, and his balls were aching like he hadn't cleaned the pipes in a year.

“You should talk, you bastard. Look at that telephone pole.” Dean nodded towards Sam's lap. There was no denying the jersey of his boxers was barely restraining Sam's dick. A wet spot blossomed even as both men stared.

Sam's hand moved without his conscious thought, wrapping itself around the protrusion of his prick. He bit back a gasp at how good it felt, the heat of his hand bleeding through the thin knot fabric, pressure making him twitch. So absorbed in his own pleasurable moment was he that he lost sight of Dean.

When Sam looked back up, still squeezing himself, his jaw dropped. Dean sat completely bare-assed on the other bed, enthusiastically tugging at himself with one hand while the other groped at his balls. He was panting hoarsely, and the rough sound hit some nerve in Sam's groin that he didn't know he had, make his cock jerk uncontrollably and pre-come well up from his slit. He swallowed back a groan, fingers feverishly smearing the sticky liquid over his dick and reaching between his legs to probe at his hole.

 _What the fuck is going on here?_ The thought dimly reached him through the heavy sex haze clouding his mind. _We don't do this. We_ can't _do this._

 _You've wanted to though,_ another thought reminded him.

 _But I never—never told Dean, never_ would _have told Dean. It's my problem, not his. My...perversion._

_Think he's got a clue now..._

Sam had to agree with that; Dean, still clutching his erection, was getting up from his bed and joining Sam on his. “Sam, do ya mind...gotta...Sammy...” Dean reached over and took Sam's hand, bringing it back to Dean's fat, pink cock and wrapping Sam's fingers around it. “It's not working with just me...need you, buddy. Please...need you.”

While he didn't understand how Dean had reached that conclusion, Sam couldn't deny how right it felt—his fingers encircling Dean's eager cock, hard flushed flesh that _moved_ underneath Sam's touch, jumped at any change in his grip. Dean's eyes went to half-mast, dark green half-hidden under blushing lids, mouth half-gaping with plump lips bitten to dark pink. His tongue emerged and ran around his mouth, adding a shine to what was already so tempting.

Sam couldn't help himself. He leaned over and kissed Dean, finally tasting what he'd desired for so long. Dean was sweet from the candy, but more than that, there was a taste of whiskey and warmth. He moaned softly under Sam's lips, and Sam kissed harder, longer, tongue slipping in to delve the depths of Dean's mouth. Dean reciprocated fully, opening to Sam and exploring his mouth in turn. Sam almost forgot about their needy dicks, so lost in kissing Dean was he, until the wet tip of Dean's cock brushed Sam's wrist.

“Fuck me,” murmured Dean, voice soft and husky. “Want to feel you inside me. Want to ride you, ride that ridiculous monster you got there.”

Sam bit off a groan. His cock totally approved of this suggestion, but Sam had to ask. “Dude...are you sure? I think there's some magic going on here. I don't want you to wake up tomorrow and freak out.”

Dean rubbed his mouth against Sam, tongue tip teasing. “I'm sure. Wanted to for a while. Just...was scared to ask. Suddenly, doesn't seem to matter. So do it.”

He pushed up, throwing one leg across Sam's lap, hands squeezing Sam's shoulders. Their cocks bobbed together; even that brief contact made Sam think he was going to come. Dean's body, Dean's cock—Sam had wanted it for a long time, but never dreamed it could ever happen. And now, here was Dean sitting in Sam's lap, naked, needy, wanting.

Dean arched against Sam, pressing his chest, the slight sheen of sweat making their skin slide together. Pink pointed nipples moved past Sam's eyes, and like a fish grabbing a lure, he bit at one, laving his tongue over the hard bump and sucking. Dean moaned and pushed against Sam's mouth, running grasping fingers into his hair and tugging as Sam suckled. Then the other, as tasty as the first; Sam whined, moving back and forth between Dean's flushed nubs that he never dreamed could be so responsive.

“Fuck, Sammy, your mouth...fuck me, come on.” Dean bucked his hips, and they moaned simultaneous at the dick-on-dick contact.

“Gotta get you ready,” panted Sam. “Don't wanna hurt you.”

“Not gonna. Look,” said Dean, reaching behind himself. He brought his hand back out to show Sam. “I'm, uh...pre-lubed.”

“See, it must be magic! That glitter she threw at us—did you see it glow? She hit us with fucking sex glitter!” Sam huffed; he _knew_ she hadn't been some ordinary little girl!

“Whatever! Who cares! Just get in me!” Dean raised himself up, giving Sam a fabulous view of his meaty thigh muscles and sweet, plump balls before grabbing Sam's cock and sinking down on it.

Pre-lubed or not, Sam knew it was a lot of cock to take. Dean's head fell back, eyes closing as he drew a deep breath while easing himself down. Sam rubbed Dean all over, soothing him with strokes over his nipples, belly, thighs. “Take your time, baby,” he murmured. “Take all the time you need. Not going anywhere.”

Jesus, he couldn't believe how incredible Dean felt. As much as he'd fantasized about it, nothing compared to the perfect tightness, the incendiary heat of being inside Dean's body. _I'm fucked now...nothing's ever going to compare,_ he thought hazily, but then he put it aside and just gave himself up to the moment.

Once accepting Sam all the way inside, Dean stayed still for a moment, breathing deeply as he adjusted. “Fuck, little brother...” he whispered. “Fuckin' beast...”

There were no more words after that. Dean began to rise up and slide down, starting slowly but gradually increasing his momentum as he stretched to accommodate Sam's dick. Steadying Dean with hands on his hips, Sam let Dean set the pace, breathing hard as Dean grunted. Dean stopped sliding and started dropping, letting himself fall harder and harder into Sam's lap, punching the air from his lungs as his body trembled.

Sam knew it wasn't going to last long—Dean felt too good, was squeezing him too well, for Sam's dick to resist. In fact, even as Dean rose and fell, Sam's hips canted, bucking up and making Dean grunt and groan as much as Sam was. His fingers pressed hard into Dean's hips, and Sam knew the bruises would be there for the next few days, reminding them of what had happened. Just in case they thought it was a dream...

It was over far too quickly; Sam couldn't hold back, thrusting up and up, pulling Dean down hard and impaling him over and over. Dean gasped as he let himself drop, thighs flexing as he ground himself hard against Sam. They keened simultaneously, meeting and parting and colliding again in a rhythm that their bodies seemed to know unconsciously. Sam felt his climax building, his balls drawing up so tight he thought they'd pop until finally they did, ejecting come into Dean's body while Sam clasped Dean as tightly as he could, burying his face into Dean's sweaty chest while he wailed his own orgasm.

Several moments later, Sam lifted his head, loosening his grip so Dean could collapse onto the bed. “Jesus...”

Dean smiled lazily. “Yeah...”

They lay down together, holding each other and catching their breath, listening to their hearts slow down. Soft kisses were punctuated by little spasms of aftershock.

Sam ran a hand over his belly. He'd come so hard he'd scarcely felt Dean's climax, but the sticky evidence was undeniable. Bringing his hand up, Sam's eyes widened.

“Dude...” He nudged Dean.

“What? Sleepy,” Dean complained.

“Look.”

“It's fucking spooge, Sam, seen that before.”

“No, really,” Sam insisted.

Dean opened heavy-lidded eyes. “What—whoa! What the hell?”

The come smeared on Sam's fingers was white and thick, like any other come. What wasn't like any other come was the iridescent glow imbued by tiny speckles of...glitter.

“Shit...”

Dean chuckled. “Well, hell. Maybe it was magic sex glitter after all.”

A stab of fear lanced through Sam. “Dean, do you--”

Dean kissed Sam, deep and thorough. “Stop fretting. You heard her. Love that's true, right?”

Sam nodded. Everything he'd ever wanted was right here, within his grasp. Wasn't it...?

“Shut up. We're meant to be, doofus. Now go to sleep, 'cause we are so doing this again in the morning.”

Sam smiled and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
